


beg for mercy, no one else is gonna do it for you

by quietcarnage



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Begging, Bottom Peter Parker, Butt Plugs, Butt Slapping, Car Sex, Classroom Sex, Creepy Quentin Beck, Crying, Crying Peter Parker, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Deepthroating, Extremely Dubious Consent, Face Slapping, Gaslighting, M/M, Manipulative Quentin Beck, Partying, Quentin Beck Being a Jerk, Quentin Beck Pretending To Be The Hero, Restraints, Slut Shaming, Teacher-Student Relationship, Victim Blaming, also, what a surprise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:01:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27323161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietcarnage/pseuds/quietcarnage
Summary: In which Peter gets drugged at a party, but gets saved by that one super hot professor he’d been crushing on all quarter.Only, it seems his professor has other intentions…
Relationships: Brad Davis/Peter Parker - Relationship, Quentin Beck/Peter Parker
Comments: 5
Kudos: 171





	beg for mercy, no one else is gonna do it for you

**Author's Note:**

> An anonymous commission thank u very much <3

Partying was never really Peter’s ‘scene’. He was a total straight A student, honor roll, dean's list, the whole nine yards. He dedicated his down time to studying the course material further, and had fallen asleep with a book in his hands more often than he’d like to admit. 

To put it simply, he was a total nerd.

“You need to loosen up, Parker. Seriously, what’s the point of going to a university and not even partying once? C’mon, there’s one at Alpha Sigma Mu tonight, and Brad’s been dying to meet you.”

He hadn’t planned on going, even after Flash had tempted him with free drinks and hot dudes all class. Frat guys weren’t really his type anyways, but Flash was absolutely relentless in his pursuit to get Peter to go to a dumb party. It was like every pause in the physics lecture was an opportunity to bring it up. He’d been at it all day, and as their class came to an end, Flash was _still_ whining about Peter’s lack of a social life loud enough that the whole auditorium could hear. Especially Professor Beck, who’s eyebrow had raised in interest as he watched the two of them go back and forth over the definition of a ‘loser’.

Which was super embarrassing.

So he caved.

And now here he was.

He downed his third solo cup of the night. He had no clue what was in the concoction, just that it was super alcoholic, it was coming from a kiddie pool in the living room, and it was making him just a little braver with each sip.

“Looks like I owe Leeds 10 bucks. I didn’t think Flash could get you to really come, hey!” Brad sauntered up behind him, only barely audible over the booming music. “Yeah, I’m here.” Peter nodded at the senior, dipping his cup in the kiddie pool again. He was pretty sure he swallowed a gummy worm.

“Are you having fun?” Brad’s head bobbed along to the bass shaking the house, his carefree smile never leaving his face. 

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t know. I don’t do this a lot.”

“Clearly.” He laughed, tugging at the collar of Peter’s sweater vest. “Come on, poindexter, loosen up! There’s no way you’re not hot in that sweater. Here, I’ll hold your cup, c’mon lets get that off.”

As much as he told himself he didn’t like frat guys, there was no denying that Brad’s smile was infectious. Besides, the pool juice was doing its job, and lowering his inhibitions, and he was here anyways, and- to hell with it, why not? 

With a lopsided grin and a shrug, Peter handed his cup over, and pulled his sweater over his head. The button up he wore underneath it was only partially done up, leaving his chest exposed. “That’s the spirit!” Brad laughed, tugging Peter closer with the tie now hanging loosely around his neck. As soon as they were chest to chest, he took the tie off, wrapping it around Peter’s head as they laughed and danced together in the crowd.

“Here, bottoms up.” 

Peter downed the cup in one go, crushing it and tossing it aside as he moved to the music and let Brad dance up on him. 

He hated to admit it, but he was having fun. Tons of it. The room was spinning, and it was like he was just floating through the motions. Partying was a lot easier than he thought. After avoiding it for the past two years, it made him feel like he had been missing out.

The more Brad offered him to drink, the drowsier and looser his movements became, but he couldn’t find it in himself to turn down any of the alcohol either. It was only when he felt like he was on the absolute verge of throwing it all up that he pushed himself away from the upperclassman. “I feel kinda sick, s’cuse me.” He slurred, giggling as he bounded off for the bathroom.

He took a step aside and stumbled to the ground, a hand wrapping around his arm being the only thing between his face and the hardwood floor. “Here, I’ll help you.”

Brad slung Peter’s arm around his shoulder, walking him to the bathroom as cheers sounded off behind them. He wasn’t sure if it was part of the music or the party-goers.

The bathroom door closed, muffling the sound of the music behind them. The lack of the bass pounding in his head was helping, but he definitely still had to vomit. 

He leaned over the toilet, hurling his guts out and let Brad rub his hand over his back. He graciously accepted the cup of water handed to him, rinsing out his mouth with a gulp and a sigh. The dizziness didn’t seem to fade, but at the very least he didn’t feel like he was going to be sick anymore. 

“Thankss’much” Peter slurred, getting to his feet. He stumbled backwards, his back hitting the wall. “No problem.” Brad smirked. “Here, why don’t I take you up to my room. Sleep it off?”

“You’re sho nice.” He let Brad haul him out of the bathroom. 

The next part, stumbling up the stairs, kicking open the door to Brads room, kicking out the couple that had been occupying it, and falling on the bed had all gone by in a haze. 

Brad unbuttoning his shirt, looping his tie around his wrists, and unbuttoning his jeans were a blur too. He remembered the cool air hitting his skin, and the slimy feel of Brads lips on his chest, but how they had gotten there was already a mystery.

Peter moved to push him off, almost forgetting that his wrists had been bound. They thudded pathetically back down on the headboard where he’d been strung up. “What’re y’doin’?” He slurred, kicking his legs. The sound of a bottle cap opening, and his boxer briefs being tugged down didn’t bring any amount of clarity. All he knew was that something was horribly wrong. 

“Easy, baby. We’re just gonna have some more fun. You were having fun at my party, weren’t you?”

“But-” his protests were cut off with a gasp as he felt a finger suddenly and roughly enter him. “I’ll be quick, don’t worry. Tomorrow you won’t even remember a thing.”

Before he could protest further, the windows lit up in red and blue lights, sirens piercing the music and sending Brad jerking off his body with an annoyed tisk. “God fucking dammit, who snitched?”

As the music abruptly ended downstairs, Brad got off of him, digging through a nearby drawer. Peter listened to the dull sounds of people breaking up the party downstairs and sighed in relief. 

Someone would come upstairs. Someone would come help him, surely.

“I gotta dip, if I get caught again, they’re gonna take my basketball scholarship. You know how it goes.” Brad mumbled.

Peter only mumbled in response. He got the feeling that that had meant something important, but as he lay there, tugging at his restraints, his drugged up mind had had trouble even processing what any of his words meant. “That means, I don’t have time to untie you, so I’m just gonna leave you here for later. Ass like that can’t go to waste now, can it?” 

He yelped as he was flipped around forcefully, something cold suddenly, forcefully pressed to his hole, slipping in with ease and stopping just short of hitting his prostate. He whined, thrusting back, seeking friction and receiving none. “I’ll see you in an hour or so when the cops are gone. And if they actually untie you… well, maybe at another party then. How about it? Say you’ll come.” 

“I-I’ll come.” Peter groaned. He wanted to reach behind and remove it, or at the very least press it deeper, but with his wrists still secured to the bed frame, all he could do was wriggle as a knock came to the door. There was a flash of light accompanied by a click, almost like a picture had been taken.

As the handle to the door turned, the window was thrown open, and before Peter could process any of what just happened, Brad was gone.

“Hey, party’s over. Go home, kids.” A familiar voice called. 

It definitely was not a police officer.

He tugged at his restraints again.

“Hey, I- Peter?” 

Peter whimpered in pain as the tie only seemed to get tighter around his wrists. 

The man closed the door behind him, locking it before striding across the room to where Peter lay face down on the bed. “Peter, is that you?” 

It was Mr. Beck, his physics professor. His hot physics professor. His hot physics professor that was totally his type, and not a frat boy, and-

“Oh dear, what’s happened to you?” Mr. Beck sat on the side of the bed, dipping it with his weight as his fingers traced the silk tie around his wrists. “Looks like someone’s got you all strung up. And then they just left you here.” Beck’s hands skimmed down his body, gracing over his chest and dipping down between his legs.

Peter gasped as the plug inside him was pushed deeper, and then released, over and over again. He keened, arching his back as the shallow thrusts just barely massaged his prostate. “P-please.” 

He didn’t know if he wanted to be let go, or if he wanted his professor to fuck him then and there. 

Without warning, his wrists fell to the bed with a light thump, and a jacket was draped over his shoulders. His pants were pulled back up over his still hard cock, and although he whined at the complete shutdown, he let Mr. Beck help him to his feet. “Let me take you home.” 

His cheeks burned in embarrassment. His mind was beginning to clear up just the smallest amount, and he realized that he must have imagined what had happened before. There was no way his professor would actually try anything like that. It was just his fantasies running wild while he was vulnerable. Must’ve been.

The room spun as he got to his feet, and Mr. Beck steadied him, one hand on his chest, the other around his shoulders. “There we go, you’re okay.”

Despite the humiliating state he’d been found in, he was grateful that someone like Mr. Beck was there to help him. Better him than some random officer. 

Well, what was his professor doing here anyways?

In the blink of an eye, Peter allowed himself to be placed in the passenger seat of Mr. Beck’s car, the plug still in him pushed deeper as he sat. He shifted to alleviate the pressure, but no position seemed to be of any help. Instead, he focused his attention on the jacket wrapped around his shoulders. It smelled like Mr. Beck’s cologne, and Peter couldn’t help but lean forward to inhale the scent. It smelled familiar, safe, but also strong, and sensual. It was simultaneously comforting and arousing.

He sighed, letting his eyes fall closed as the engine roared to life.

They drove past the red and blues of the police cars, pulling onto the road with a soft bump. “What were you doing at a party like that?” Mr. Beck asked, a hand rubbing the inside of his thigh. 

“I was- _ah!_ ” Peter bit back a moan as Beck’s hand roamed higher, grabbing onto the visible outline of his hard cock through his pants. It had to be a fantasy. There was no way his dreamy professor was actually doing this to him. He was still drunk. That had to be it. 

“Were you looking for someone like Brad? Someone to tie you up and fuck you stupid?”

“N-no.” Peter felt his face flush red. “I- He’s not my type.”

“You want me to believe that?”

“Yes sir.”

Another awkward silence.

“Who’s your type, Peter?”

He gulped. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real, so he could say it. “You are.”

The car turned onto a dirt road, branches scratching at the windows before slowing to a stop. 

Peter let his eyes drag over to the window, and with a slow realization, it dawned on him that he had no idea where they were. They’d been driving at least 10 minutes now, but the route from his dorm to the frat house was no more than 15 minutes walking. He didn’t recognize any of the shrubbery outside his window. In fact, he didn’t see any landmarks or street signs at all.

“Where-”

“Get in the backseat, Peter.” Mr. Beck paused. “It’ll be more comfortable.”

He obeyed. Beck was his professor. Someone he trusted. He probably knew better than a drunk college kid. He knew-

“Okay.” He clambered over the seat, tripping over his own feet and landing face first in the back. “Wh-where are we?” 

“It’s gotta be hot, why don’t you get that shirt off?” Now that Mr. Beck mentioned it, the car _was_ really hot. It wasn’t like that earlier, but it was definitely hot and stuffy now. So much so that his shirt was sticking to his skin with a thin layer of sweat. 

Peter unbuttoned his shirt as best as he could. It was hard with his blurred vision, and his fingers only felt like they were tying themselves into knots. He only managed to get one button off before Mr. Beck’s bigger hands were on top of his. “Here, let me help you.”

Mr. Beck had climbed in the back with him at some point, he couldn’t quite remember how though. In fact, he was having a lot of trouble trying to remember a lot of things.

With one hand on Peter’s chest, Mr. Beck lay him down across the seat, straddling him so their hips just met one another. If Peter were to roll his hips even a bit, their clothed cocks would undoubtedly rub against each other, the thought sending a wave of heat right down to his dick.

Slowly, he felt the still air of the car and Mr. Beck’s breath on his exposed chest as his button up was removed. The silk feel of his shirt was replaced by the calloused hands of his professor stroking a stripe down his chest and settling on cupping his groin.

“Peter,” He whispered. And damn if his name didn’t sound like silk and honey on his tongue.

“Mr. Beck,” Peter groaned, thrusting up into his hand. “Peter, I think you want something from me. Something entirely inappropriate. The fact that you’re even suggesting such an idea is so unprofessional.” Beck whispered, lowering himself to nibble at his chest, teeth biting down on his nipple harshly.

Peter yelped an apology, squirming as Beck’s hand moved lower and began massaging his balls, his tongue flicking at his nipples. “P-professor, please!”

“Oh fuck, say that again.” Beck groaned, leaning forward to suck a mark into Peter’s neck.

“Professor,” He moaned, thrusting his hip upwards. Peter felt Beck’s hands expertly releasing the button on his pants, which were roughly tugged down to his knees. “Can’t drive when I’m thinking about you. How I found you at that party. Did anything happen? Did you let Brad fuck you yet?”

“N-no. No I-”

He was cut off by a pair of rough lips, stubble scratching his chin and tickling his cheeks as Mr. Beck ground down on his crotch through his slacks. “I don’t believe you, Peter.” He whispered. “See, when I found my star student, tied to the bedpost with a pretty little plug stuffed into his ass, I gotta assume you’ve already been filled and left for the next man to find and fuck.”

“No...” Peter groaned, pushing at Mr. Beck’s chest. “It wasn’t like that! Nothing happened.”

“That’s for me to find out, don’t you think? Either way, you were never gonna end the night without getting pumped full of cum, baby. And if you’re telling the truth, it just means I’m lucky it gets to be mine and only mine.” He kissed Peter one final time before flipping him onto his belly, pressing a hand firmly into his lower back and drawing a moan from the boy beneath him. “Hold still, honey.”

Beck unbuttoned his own slacks, shoving them down just enough to whip out his cock before bringing Peter’s ass up until it was level with his dick. “You’re all lubed up and open for me too. Like the perfect little present. It must be my birthday.” He cooed, pulling the plug out slowly. 

“U-uh, happy birthday, Mr. Beck.” Peter half-slurred.

Mr. Beck paused at the widest point of the plug, watching with hooded eyes as Peter’s rim fought the stretch. He pulled it out, immediately replacing it with the tip of his cock. 

Peter yelped, moving his hips forward and away, only to be dragged back hard and fast, being forced to take the entirety of his professor's length in one go. With his ass pressed flush against the older man’s hips, he felt the stretch and burn as the two of them stilled, mercifully allowing Peter to adjust.

Mr. Beck was big. Thick in all the right ways, and the way he was held, forced his professor’s cock to stimulate his prostate. Every movement felt like a burst of excitement that had him moaning into the backseat beneath him. He tried his best to rock back and forth, anything to get a little more movement, but found that the grip Beck had on him was firm.

He whined, lowering his head and arching his back as he felt a hand run up and down his body soothingly. “There’s a good boy. You took me so well. And look, you’re practically dripping, baby you’re so hard. What do we say when someone makes you this happy, Peter?” Beck held him in place. Peter moved a hand down to grasp his own cock, only to have it slapped away loosely. “What do we say?” 

“Th-thank you, Mr. Beck.” He moaned.

“Good boy, Peter.” He shivered as Beck leaned down to place a kiss into the back of his neck. “I’m going to fuck you now. I’m gonna fuck you, and you’re going to let me, because you’re a good boy and you’re a fuckin’ tease, Parker. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” He breathed.

Mr. Beck pulled out slowly, getting just to the tip before easing back in just as slowly. Peter panted with need, rolling his hips in frustration as Mr. Beck seemed to keep the same, slow pace. 

He only just opened his mouth to complain, when suddenly, he felt his breath punched out of his lungs as Mr. Beck thrust back in, hard and fast, holding himself there. 

“P-please.” He moaned. 

“Sounds like you liked that, Peter. Is this what you want? To get fucked hard and fast? To be used?” He whispered lowly, pulling out slowly again and thrusting in with a snap of his hips.

“Please!” He squeaked as his professor picked up the pace. He gripped the seat below him as the car windows fogged up in their heat. It was almost painful how each thrust seemed to knock his breath out. He could barely even remember how he got in this position, his mind still spinning as he stared into the dark fabric of the backseat, drool running down his jaw. All he could make out, was that he was getting the best fuck of his life from the hottest professor at his university. Nothing else mattered.

He met each thrust with his own, rocking back as his mind was reduced to begging, and all he could focus on was chasing that sweet release. “I couldn’t take my eyes off of you,” Beck growled, running his hands down to caress his chest. “Ever since your first day, Peter. I waited that long. You sat right in the front. You slouched, and spread your legs like the little slut you are. You chewed on your pencil, you bit your bottom lip, and you looked up at me all half eyes and hair in your face. I knew I had to have you. Did you know that you still sit like that? It’s like you’ve been asking for this all quarter.” 

“Please.” Peter choked, moving his hips back to meet all of Beck’s thrusts. 

“You have, haven’t you?” Peter squeaked as he felt a set of fingers close around a nipple with a painful twist. He clawed and scratched at the backseat in pain, his hips still thrusting backwards to meet Mr. Beck’s hips all on their own. “You knew what you were doing, you were just waiting for me to make the first move.”

He could feel himself getting close, breathing out a quiet, breathy “please, please, please, please” with every smack of skin against skin as they picked up the pace.

“Yeah, you knew.” He grunted and he bit down on the back of Peter’s shoulder. “Oh god, Peter, I’ve dreamt about fucking you for weeks. Wanted you for so long. Want you to be mine, and now you are. Are you mine, Peter? You my little cumslut?” 

“Yours, all yours.” He moaned. “Your little cumslut.”

“Good boy.” Beck moaned. His thrust became shallower and quicker, and it was clear he was nearing his release. “So trainable, so good. Good boys deserve a reward don’t they?”

“I’m good, I- I’m good, Mr. Beck please.” He could feel himself reaching his climax as well. There was only so much he could take, and with the stimulation in his hole, the hand kneading at his chest, and the other hand now laying on light taps to his ass, he felt himself tipping over the edge. 

“Tell me how much of a slut you are. Tell me you _need_ me to cum in you.”

Peter groaned at the thought of leaking Mr. Beck’s cum, the hot white liquid dripping down his thighs. “I need- I- _ngh!”_ He moaned, unable to finish his sentence as he came, shooting his cum all over the backseat as Mr. Beck continued fucking him. “Say it.”

“Need you so bad, sir please! Please cum in me. Please, please, _please._ ” He keened, feeling his limbs turn to jelly as he rode out his climax.

He felt himself fill up with his professors heat, the larger body slumping over on top of him as he let Mr. Beck pump his seed deep within him. Their sweat mixed, sticking them to one another as Mr. Beck panted against his earlobe. Each hot breath felt like a kiss, and he felt the cock twitch within him, gyrating slowly as he milked out the final bursts of cum. “Good boy, Peter. Such a good, good boy.” 

They lay there, joined for a few minutes before Beck finally sat up and pulled out, small amounts of cum sliding out as well. Peter let his head fall into his arms, and his body fall sideways as he lost all muscle control. He was well and truly fucked out.

The slick slide of something cold pressed into his ass, holding the cum in as he felt his professor redress him one button at a time. “Get some rest sweetheart.” Beck ran his hand over Peter’s hair, smoothing it out. “Oh, and look at what a mess you’ve made.” He tisked, running a hand over Peter’s jaw to swipe up the drool with a smirk. Peter grumbled incoherently, watching as Beck opened the door, stepping out to do his own pants up before clambering into the drivers seat.

Through barely open eyes, he felt the rumble of the car starting up and pulling out in reverse. The branches that scratched at the car on the way in scratched on the way out too, and it wasn’t until they hit the smooth pavement of asphalt before Peter finally allowed himself to close his eyes, letting the darkness drag him to sleep.

-

Waking up brought on a hell of a headache.

Peter groaned, clutching his head as he sat up. The world seemed to spin, and all he wanted to do was lie back down. 

This was exactly why he didn’t go to parties. He couldn’t remember what he had drank, or how many he had for that matter. All he knew was that Brad did not stop bringing them to him all night.

He strained to remember anything really, and came up mostly blank. The entire night was a blur, and the last thing he remembered was throwing up in the bathroom. Must’ve passed out.

Taking in his surroundings, he quickly realized that he was not in his own room. The walls were a pristine white, and a tall plant sat on a nearby table, adding a pop of green to the room. It was too sophisticated to be a frat house. 

Where the hell was he?

“Oh good, you’re awake.” A familiar voice called from the door. Peter sat up quickly, his face immediately going red.

The man that rounded the corner, two cups of hot coffee in hand was none other than his physics professor, Mr. Beck.

“S-sir.” He stammered. “Why- how am I h-here? Where am I? What happened last night?

“Oh, kid you don’t remember? I found you drunk and wandering the streets after Brad’s party yesterday. That was really irresponsible of you by the way. Getting so blackout drunk you don’t even remember leaving the party. Imagine what would have happened if literally anyone else picked you up. Lucky I found you.”

“How’d you know I was at-”

“Pete, you and Flash were talking about it yesterday loud enough for the whole class to hear. Or, did you forget that too?”

Peter felt his face flush deeper in embarrassment. He definitely remembered agreeing to go to the party in Beck’s class the day before. The entire party was a blur though. How it had gotten to the point of him literally stumbling drunk through the streets was humiliating enough, but the fact that he woke up in his professor’s bed was somehow worse. He could only pray he didn’t do anything to humiliate himself while he was here.

“Sorry for intruding sir, I- I should go.” He shifted in the sheets. As his legs rubbed against his pants, he could feel a stickiness that told him he _definitely_ got laid last night and didn’t clean up. It was gross, and there was no way Mr. Beck wouldn’t be able to smell the scent of sex on him.

“Nonsense. Sit tight, breakfast is almost ready. The shower’s in that room, but I’m afraid I don’t have any spare clothes in your size. Are you alright wearing mine until you can get back to your dorm?”

“Yes please.” Peter gulped. As soon as Mr. Beck left the room, he stumbled out of the bed, legs getting tangled in the sheets, head pounding as he pulled himself into the bathroom. He stripped out of his sweat soiled clothes and let the shower run warm before stepping inside.

The fall of warm water on his skin made him sigh in relief as he struggled to relive the night, only to come up blank.

Regardless of how it happened, he now found himself in the bedroom - no, the _shower_ \- of the professor he’d been crushing on all quarter. Despite how exciting the prospect was, he couldn’t find it in himself to really _feel_ excited. In fact, something felt horribly wrong about the entire situation.

“Peter? I brought you a towel. I’m just gonna leave it on the counter, alright?” Beck called in. Peter could see his blurred figure through the frosted glass leave a towel by the sink and then slip back outside.

It was awfully nice of Mr. Beck to let him crash at his place, and based on the cold bed he’d woken up to, it was clear that they hadn’t slept together per say. So why did it feel so wrong?

He finished scrubbing himself clean, and stepped out into the foggy bathroom, wrapping the towel around his waist and fixing his sopping hair in the mirror. As he allowed his eyes to wander, he almost choked at the sight of what was clearly a buttplug sitting by the sink. For the sake of modesty and his poor professor's privacy, Peter turned away immediately, deciding to simply pretend he hadn’t seen it before heading back into the cool bedroom to forage for wearable clothes. 

Beck was there waiting for him, setting down bacon and eggs on the bedside table. “Hey kid, feeling better?” He couldn’t ignore the way Beck’s eyes raked up and down his body, taking it all in like a predator sizing up it’s next meal. “Yeah, you have uh, great water pressure.” Yeah, he knew he didn’t look _bad_ , there was a lot to look at, it didn’t mean he didn’t feel like a piece of meat though.

He pulled out a button up that was definitely way too big, and put it on over his still-wet form. “Breakfast smells great.” He smiled.

“Eat up. I’ll drive you back to campus as soon as you’re ready to go. I only have one class to teach today, and it’s your night class, so I’m in no rush.” He smiled, licking his lips. “Let me know how it tastes.”

-

Mr. Beck dropped him off in front of his dorm just as promised, and Peter thanked him profusely for the hospitality before bolting inside to put on a pair of pants that weren’t Mr. Beck’s oversized shorts.

The rest of the day was relatively normal, save for the severely increased numbers of high fives he was receiving from upperclassmen. He ran into Brad Davis right before his final class with Mr. Beck, who slid right into his side with one smooth movement, draping his arm around Peter’s shoulder and falling into step with him. “Hey babe, sorry for ditching you yesterday when the cops showed. Did you at least have a good time while you were there?” 

“Honestly, I don’t remember any of it. Like at all.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Mr. Beck leaning against the door to his classroom, greeting students but occasionally looking up at the two of them with a scowl.

“That sounds like a good time to me!” Brad laughed, “hey, me and some friends are gonna hang out later, are you down? No alcohol this time, so I can guarantee there’s no way you’ll be forgetting.”

Before he could open his mouth to turn him down lightly, he heard the piercing sound of a fire alarm, and the scuffle that followed of students filing themselves out of the building as quickly as they could. He felt a large hand on his back, guiding him out, and in the confusion, separating him from Brad.

Not that he minded.

-

After discovering that it had been a false alarm, everyone was allowed back inside. Peter went straight to class to avoid having to see Brad again, and dropped himself in the front row of the auditorium, his usual seat in Mr. Beck’s lecture. Having lost half of the class time, the lecture started up immediately as students continued to file in. Flash dropped down next to him, murmuring a “heard you hooked up with Brad Davis. Say goodbye to nerd-dom because _that’s_ what I’m fuckin’ talking about,” with a wide grin. 

Despite what seemed to be half the school talking about him and Brad, Peter found that all _his_ mind wanted to do was fantasize about getting fucked by Mr. Beck in the back of a car. 

He blinked.

It was a really specific fantasy, but fuck, he could almost feel how big Mr. Beck would be. How good it would feel to be bent over and pressed into the backseat as he got pounded over and over.

He menatally cursed as he felt the front of his pants tighten with the vivid imagery. He could practically feel his professor’s teeth biting marks into his chest and flicking at his nipples, teasing him and slowly dragging him to the edge. He’d-

“Peter Parker!” 

He jumped, sitting up straight and knocking his notebook to the ground in front of him. There were stifled giggles all around, and Flash even shoved his arm a bit. 

“S-sorry! I don’t know why I- I uh… Yes, sir?” 

He looked down at the fallen notebook, not making a move to stand and retrieve it lest he reveal how hard he was getting fantasizing about the professor less than 5 feet away.

Mr. Beck sighed, stooping down to pick up the fallen notebook. “Alright everyone, clearly, I’m boring you all to death so I think I’m gonna go ahead and end it early today. Peter, hang back a bit.”

There was a dull hum of noise as students packed up their belongings and left one by one, many with grateful or relieved expressions.

Peter slunk into his seat in shame, his face heating up as Flash gave him an amused look, mouthing ‘good luck’ before heading out as well, leaving him in the empty auditorium. The silence was awkward at best, Peter not even making an attempt to meet his eyes. He had no idea what had gotten into him just then. He’d fantasized about Mr. Beck before, but it’d never been so vivid that it had literally stopped him from being able to pay attention. 

“Stand up, Peter.”

He felt his cheeks heat up again. There was no way he was going to let his professor see the tent in his pants, because there was no way he was going to be able to hold himself back from explaining himself into a hole. “I uh, can’t do that, sir.” 

“That’s not a request, stand up. Let me see.” Beck growled lowly.

Much to his own surprise, he obeyed, getting to his feet immediately, covering his beet red face in shame. “I-I’m so sorry, I don’t usually. I’ve never-”

“Shhh… Come stand in front of your desk, Peter. I like to talk to my students… closely.” Beck shushed him, moving to lock the classroom door. Peter did what he said, watching as Beck dragged the blinds closed before calmly striding back to his shoulder bag, which had been left beside the podium.

“I’m really disappointed, Peter. You’re one of my star students. It’s so unlike you to drop so drastically in quality. I expected a lot more from you.” He frowned. Peter felt a tinge of guilt pulling at his heartstrings. “I saw you hanging out with Brad again. It’s a good thing that the fire alarm went off when it did, huh?”

“Huh?” Peter echoed. 

“I’m saying you should stay away from Brad. And he should stay away from you. Kid’s a case of bad news followed by the Sunday paper.” Beck mumbled, eyes blatantly glued to the tent in Peter’s pants. 

Peter nodded. He was shocked at how forward his professor was being but couldn’t find it in himself to speak up. Something just felt so, so _wrong_ in the very pit of his stomach.

“Anyways, like I said, I’m feeling very disappointed in you, sweetheart. Falling asleep in class, hanging out with Brad, what’s next? You’ve been very, _very_ bad, Peter. Bad boy.” He whispered the last part, stalking closer to Peter with every word. 

He gasped as he felt Mr. Beck’s hands groping his erection through his pants, leaning forward to whisper into his lips, “bad boys should be punished, don’t you agree?” before leaning down further and licking along the side of Peter’s neck.

“Please…”

“Please what? Use your words, kid.”

“I- this isn’t right. We shouldn’t-”

“Peter.” Beck cut him off. His Icy blue eyes seemed to stare right through him, a terrifying contrast to the pleasant feeling of his professors hands massaging his erection. “Look how hard you are for me. You can’t tell me you don’t want this. Besides. This wouldn’t be happening at all if you just behaved. You made me end the class early too.”

“I-I’m sorry.” He whimpered, squirming away. Yeah, he fantasized about this, but the way Mr. Beck was talking to him, the way he looked at him like he was nothing, sent chills down his spine. He wanted to get away. He _needed_ to get away. “Some students don’t use their class time staring down their professors like they want to eat them, Peter. Some students actually want to learn.”

“I’m s-”

“Stop. Look at me.” Peter did, eyes trailing down to the obvious strain in Mr. Beck’s pants. “Now you’ve gone and gotten me riled up as well. I took care of you. Fed you, clothed you, let you sleep in my bed like a gentleman, and in return you just, what? You get me all hot and bothered and then you turn tail and run? Is that the kind of slut you are? You’ve been a bad, bad boy. And now I’m going to punish you. You’re going to fix this.”

Peter gulped, nodding, tears beginning to pile up in the corners of his eyes. “Bend over the desk.” Beck spun him around, not giving him much of an option as he shoved his face into the wooden surface. 

“You know, you were wearing a buttplug last night? Stuffed to the brim with cum too. Tell me, Peter, how many of those frat boys did you let use you like cocksleeve you really are? Did you let them fuck you from both ends? You let them pump you so full of cum you forget everything that happened?” Peter felt the cool air of the classroom bite his bare skin as Mr. Beck pulled his pants down. He clenched his eyes shut, remembering the plug on Mr. Beck’s counter.

“S-sir, no. No, and I- I don’t think we should be doing this here. I-”

“Relax. No one else uses this building after 7pm. I’m really glad you took my night class, Peter. So scream all you want, no one’s gonna hear you, baby.” 

Peter whimpered. He had no idea what he had done to make his professor act this way, and he didn’t have the physical ability to overpower him either. Even if he did, it wasn’t like he fought any of this. Why hadn’t he fought?

He felt his heart race as Beck kneaded circles into his ass. What if Mr. Beck was right? What if he really was just a cock hungry slut? He had been fantasizing about Beck all quarter, and now he was just _letting_ Beck do this to him. What if-

A crack and a sting of pain blossomed from his ass where Mr. Back had spanked him. Hard. 

Peter whimpered, bowing his head and pressing his ass out as another hand landed, then another, and another. It stung. It stung like hell with no relief, and yet still, he couldn’t remember the last time he was this hard.

“This is your punishment, baby. Now apologize to me.”

With a broken moan and a sob, he held still as Beck rubbed relief into the hot, red handprints decorating his ass. “I’m s-sorry!” He yelped, Beck spanking him again, harder. “Say it again, hon.”

“I’m sorry!” 

Another one.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Plea- please stop it hurts! Please, please Mr. Beck, please I-” 

He yelped, feeling a fist curl into his hair and dragging him up to his feet. He felt Beck spin him around, but before he could even meet his eyes this time, his vision went dark and he saw stars as Beck backhanded him across the cheek. “Don’t talk to me like that, bitch.”

“I’m sorr-” He hiccupped, “-so sorry!”

“Get on your fucking knees. If you can take the entire frat house, you can take me, slut. Open fucking wide.”

Peter dropped onto his knees, wincing as he let his mouth fall open. Beck undid his own belt with one hand, unzipping his pants and whipping out his cock, only giving it one or two quick pumps before shoving it into Peter’s mouth, just enough to stretch his jaw and get him salivating. “This doesn’t have to hurt.” He cooed, running a finger down the side of Peter’s jaw. “Get me nice and slick and this won’t hurt a bit, go on.”

He let Peter get to work, slobbering all over the length, bobbing his head and running his tongue up and down Beck’s shaft as the man moaned above him. He felt the fingers in his hair tighten as Beck began feeding his cock down Peter’s throat. “ _Fuck_ you’re so tight. Wanted you so bad. Wanted to get you on your knees, crying for me. Look at you, you’re gorgeous, Peter.” 

Peter could only hum in response, the vibrations making Beck jerk his hips forward, fully sheathing himself into Peter’s throat. Tears began effortlessly spilling from his eyes as he began struggling to breathe. He tapped at Becks’ thighs, trying to push himself off, only for Beck to tighten his grip on Peter’s head, thrusting in and out shallowly as he used Peter’s throat like a fleshlight, chasing his own release with no concern for the student below him.

At that moment, he was sure that this was how he would die. Choking on his hot professors cock, and part of him wondered if that was truly fitting in the end. As his eyes began to roll into the back of his head, he couldn’t help his own hands wandering down to grip his own cock through his pants. 

Peter moaned, pressing his tongue up against the shaft as well as he could from where he was forced to be. As he rutted up against the ground and his palm, he thought that there must be something wrong with him for sure. Everything about what was happening between him and his professor could barely be considered consensual, and that was after doing the whole round of mental gymnastics to even get to this point. His professor was taking advantage of him while he was vulnerable. Degrading him, forcing himself on him, _and he was getting off on it_.

To top it all off, the high he was getting from the lack of oxygen to his brain was pushing him over the edge, and the minute amounts of friction he was getting from Beck slamming into his throat and rocking him back and forth was just enough that he was ready to cum in his pants like a damn teenager. His vision began dimming, his hand furiously working his own cock, but before he could reach a climax, a hand met his face, slapping him back to consciousness. “Hey, breathe through your nose, genius.” Beck chastised him.

He did as he was told, breathing heavily through his nose as Beck continued to use him, the thrusts getting rougher, and shallower. “I love that you’re getting off to this. Makes me so happy to know I’m not the only one having fun. You make such a great cocksleeve honey. Wanna have you hold my cock in your throat under my desk while I do my lectures. Do you think you can do it honey? Do you think you can sit still and be my perfect little cocksleeve for an hour in front of hundreds? I think you can.”

Peter groaned at the thought, tears falling faster as he realized he really was getting off to Beck’s sick words. He pumped his own cock faster, the friction dulled through the fabric.

It was enough though, and as he came, spilling his seed into the boxers he’d borrowed from Beck, the force of his own orgasm made him jerk his head forward, pressing him impossibly closer into the curls at the base of Beck’s cock with a slurp and a lewd moan. 

That seemed to push his professor over as well, as hands gripped the back of his head, holding him still as hot, slimy cum shot down his throat. 

Peter grunted, futilely pushing away from his professor as his gag reflex kicked in to the way the cum seemed to slide down his throat. Beck held him still though, as his tears poured over the sides of his cheeks and he lost control of his breathing. 

He pushed and pushed against Becks’ thighs, but the man simply would not let him go, the contractions of his throat from his gag reflex feeling like heaven on his cock. The familiar dark spots began to creep into his vision again, and he sobbed around the length, looking up at Beck through his wet lashes as he begged for freedom for his abused throat, receiving none.

With one more weak push, he let the darkness consume his eyes, pulling him into the comforting arms of unconsciousness. 

-

When he regained consciousness, he was on the floor of the auditorium, Beck looking about as proper as he had during the lecture. Not a hair out of place. 

“Good morning, princess.”

Peter remained quiet, the only sound in the auditorium being his hitched breathing and sniffles. He didn’t even want to try talking with how abused his throat felt. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Beck extended a hand, helping Peter up from the ground with a smirk. “I think you got the message.” 

Peter nodded.

“You gonna behave, baby?”

Another nod.

“Good boy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I threw in an ASM reference I cannot help myself


End file.
